PoetsandPromises (12 page)

“Please come in,” Lady Parker said, opening the door.

As Elisabeth crossed the threshold she felt as though she
were entering another world. Brilliant color was everywhere. The walls were
hung with brightly painted pictures of exotic beasts and strange beings, the
bed was covered with hangings of bright pink and red fabrics shot with gold, comfortable-looking
pillows with silk coverings and gold tassels lay upon both the bed and floor
and brass figures graced small tables and bracketed shelves. Revati lay
stretched out asleep on the center of the bed.

“This is my sanctuary, my piece of India here in London. But
here is what I wished you to see,” Lady Parker said, picking up a miniature off
a small rosewood table near the bed. “This was my first husband. He was killed
in the fighting, shortly after I married him.”

Elisabeth took the miniature from Lady Parker and surveyed
the likeness of a fair-haired gentleman in the uniform of the East India
Company army. Both strength and sensitivity could be seen in the lines and
contours of his face and Elisabeth felt sad that he had not lived to have a fuller
life. Not knowing what to say, she handed the miniature back to Lady Parker in
silence.

“And this,” Lady Parker continued, picking up a second
miniature and holding it out to Elisabeth, “was my second husband.”

Elisabeth took the second miniature and examined it in
surprise. It portrayed a very handsome man with dark expressive eyes and dark
skin. A jeweled turban was on his head.

“As you see, my second husband was Indian,” Lady Parker said
quietly. “He was a prince in his own country but Indian. There are but few
English women in India, Miss Ashwood, and the truth is that most of the men in
the East India Company, especially in the remote stations, marry women who are
native to that land. But rarely—one might almost say never—does it happen the
other way around. My marriage was not received well by the other Englishmen. We
were at a very remote station but even there many of the English would not
receive me in their homes. When my second husband died of cholera and I
returned to England to live with my brother I chose to reassume my first
husband’s name, hoping that since we had been in such a remote corner of the
world no one in England would learn of my second marriage. Perhaps it was
cowardly of me but I had no desire to defend my choice to those who never knew
him and never could.”

“I think you were very brave,” Elisabeth said honestly. “But
why does this mean you cannot marry the duke? He would understand, I am
certain.”

“No, I cannot,” Lady Parker said with resolution as she
placed the miniatures back on the table. “You have commented yourself on how
proper His Grace is in all his actions. I could not risk putting him in a
position where his honor would demand he give his hand in a marriage he no
longer desired.

“You see, Miss Ashwood, I know what it is to be outcast by
society, to be beyond the pale. It is all very well to say principle comes
first and that I did right but it is also lonely. Very lonely,” she repeated,
absently stroking Revati. “And that is why I have been against your association
with Mr. Hunt and Mr. and Mrs. Shelley and the others who are members of a set
that has chosen not to abide by the rules of society. You have not yet enough
knowledge of the world to make that terrible decision.”

“Now,” Lady Parker said, “we have been serious long enough.
Shall we go downstairs and decide which entertainments we wish to attend this
next week?”

Elisabeth followed Lady Parker back downstairs in a somber
frame of mind. Was it the loneliness of the outcast that caused Mary Shelley to
plead so desperately for Elisabeth to continue her friendship with the poet’s
wife? She had wondered at Mrs. Shelley’s odd insistence. Intuitively Elisabeth
knew the answer was “yes”.

After helping Lady Parker sort through a large pile of
invitations, Elisabeth excused herself to go take a rest.

“Of course, I should not have kept you so long, Miss
Ashwood,” Lady Parker apologized. “Oh, I forgot to give these to you,” she
added, holding out three missives. “These arrived in the post today.”

Elisabeth inspected the inscriptions as she went upstairs,
seeing that one was from her father and one from her friend Jane but she did
not recognize the handwriting on the third. Curious, she opened it first and
saw it was from Mary Shelley. She scanned rapidly through the contents as she
went into her bedchamber, her expression changing from excitement to
disappointment. Mary. Shelley asked if she, Lady Parker, Lord Sherbourne and
Mr. Earlywine would meet her husband and herself in Lyme Regis for a day of
sailing. Elisabeth had longed for such an opportunity ever since Shelley had
described the experience so vividly at the Hunt’s that first day she had met
them but Elisabeth also knew that Lady Parker and Lord Sherbourne were both
extremely unlikely to agree to such an outing. Elisabeth dropped onto the bench
at the end of her bed and thought what to do. If she were to mention the
invitation, no doubt Lord Sherbourne would consider it proof of her interest in
Mr. Shelley and Lady Parker would feel she had ignored her cautions earlier in
the day. She would have to send a refusal without even asking. With a great
sigh at the loss of such an opportunity, Elisabeth picked up her other letters
and slit the seals.

Earlywine dropped casually into a comfortable armchair at
Lord Sherbourne’s town home sitting room. “There’s a gray at Tattersall’s I
have been admiring—d’you have the leisure to take a look at him with me? I
would appreciate your opinion before making the purchase.”

Sherbourne looked up from the missive he had been studying.
“Certainly, it would be my pleasure.

“It would appear from this note I received from Hunt this
morning that Miss Ashwood has turned down a proposal for a day’s sailing in
Lyme Regis—an invitation that apparently included you as well, by the way,”
Sherbourne said, his tone thoughtful. “It is odd she never mentioned it. Not
that it makes a difference, since such an excursion would be out of the
question, but I would think she would have informed the other parties included
in the invitation.”

“There is your answer. Miss Ashwood no doubt knew it was out
of the question and did not feel it worth mentioning,” James said practically.
“How does your courtship progress? You have said little about it of late.”

Sherbourne set the letter aside and turned his attention to
his friend. “Not well. I am at fault. I fear I made some hasty accusations
after seeing Shelley caress her face the day we went to Marlow. No doubt it was
innocent but in truth although I must admire the man’s genius. He has an
unenviable reputation with women and Miss Ashwood is an innocent for all her
study. Miss Ashwood then countered with accusations that I have shown an
interest in Miss Thibeau.”

“It is difficult not to have an interest in Miss Thibeau,”
Earlywine remarked.

“Any man must appreciate her beauty,” Lord Sherbourne
agreed. “And perhaps Miss Ashwood has a point that her admiration of the poet
is no different.” He hesitated before speaking again. “I regret the quarrel
deeply, as I felt we were coming to an understanding of each other, and had even
planned to ask her if I might have our betrothal announced publically. I have
tried to remedy the situation and had hoped I was making progress the night of
the opera but I had the confounded luck to be asked to visit the comtesse in
her box during the interval and could not refuse. I fear Miss Ashwood must have
seen me there, for the rest of the evening she was markedly cool. “

“You could still ask Miss Ashwood if you could announce the
betrothal,” Earlywine suggested. “It might make her feel secure and she would
not mind Miss Thibeau so much.”

“She would never agree as things stand now,” Sherbourne
pronounced. “And I am afraid if I were to ask and she were to refuse that
things between us might never be repaired.”

“I can tell you how to get back into Miss Ashwood’s good
graces,” Earlywine said suddenly. “Accept the offer of the sailing excursion.
Wouldn’t mind going m’self,” he added.

“My sister would never agree,” Sherbourne argued. “She is
unhappy enough with the connection as it is. She would never wish to risk Miss
Ashwood being seen in the Shelleys’ company in Lyme.”

“I believe that most of those who travel to Lyme Regis these
days go to search for fossils along the cliffs,” James informed Sherbourne.
“Ought to know—had to take m’sisters there once. Lyme is no longer a preferred
destination for resorts and sea outings, at least among the
ton
. I doubt
anyone who would recognize her would be among those we would encounter during
the little time we would be in the town itself.”

Lord Sherbourne considered his friend’s argument. It was
true Miss Ashwood had shown a great interest in accounts of sailing since that
first visit at Hunt’s in Hamptstead. With Earlywine’s backing he might be able
to persuade his sister to the idea. Almost anything was worth the risk if it
would restore the rapport he and Miss Ashwood had lost. He would indeed risk
almost anything to have her once again look at him as she had the night she
waltzed in his arms at the assembly rooms of Almack’s. He had seen total trust
in her eyes as she had relaxed into his arms while they had whirled around the
room to the intoxicating music of the waltz. He had felt they had merged into
one, surrendering their hearts to the other, and had known by the blissful
expression on Miss Ashwood’s face that she had felt the same. Yes, he would
risk anything to have that restored between them.

“I believe you have the right of it,” he said to James. “I
shall convince my sister to allow the excursion.”

“Good,” Earlywine said, rising. “That is settled. Off to Tattersall’s
then.”

“How pretty that manor house in the distance—it is built of
such a lovely pastel stone,” Elisabeth exclaimed as the hired traveling
carriage rumbled through the rolling hills of Dorset on this second morning of
their journey to Lyme Regis.Elisabeth
could still scarcely credit that they were on their way to a sailing excursion
with the Shelleys. She wondered how Lord Sherbourne had persuaded his sister to
agree to the outing, for Elisabeth was certain Lady Parker did not approve.

“I agree that Dorset has some remarkably lush countryside,”
Elisabeth continued. “I had not realized such woods were to be found in Dorset.
I suppose I thought only of the sea and such towns as Weymouth and Lyme.”

“Dorset is known for its excellent fox hunting,” Earlywine
commented from his seat across from Elisabeth, Molly and Lady Parker. “In
autumn there is no finer countryside for following the hounds.”

“Certainly it ranks among the best in the country,”
Sherbourne agreed. “But you are not alone in thinking of the sea when you think
of Dorset, Miss Ashwood. You will find its seashore and cliffs quite the equal
of those to be found anywhere in England.”

“I must confess I have never been to the seaside, so I shall
have nothing with which to compare them,” Elisabeth admitted with a half-smile,
turning her head from the view outside and addressing Lord Sherbourne and
Earlywine.

“An Englishwoman who has never been to the seaside!”
Earlywine exclaimed with a twinkle in his eye, empathizing with Elisabeth’s
obvious pleasure in their journey. “Your upbringing has been sadly neglected.
We must ensure that you see all the sights to be found in Lyme. We shall stroll
along the Cobb, walk down to the seashore and explore every shop.”

“Indeed we shall, and we shall begin with a walk along the
Cobb this evening,” Lady Parker agreed good-naturedly.

“Shall we have time to explore after settling at our
lodgings?” Elisabeth asked doubtfully, looking out the carriage window once
again, checking the sun’s position in the sky.

“It is only a few hours more. Shelley will have ordered our
dinner and there should be no difficulties with our rooms since he and Mrs.
Shelley traveled down to Lyme several days ago. The sloop we are to sail upon
is not his but one belonging to one of his friends,” Sherbourne explained. “And
Shelley wished to familiarize himself with her before he took the four of us
out for a sail. I am sure you must know that all ships of any size are referred
to as ‘she’,” he added for Elisabeth’s benefit.

“Yes, I managed to learn that much, although I know little
of ships or the sea.” Elisabeth laughed, her smile lighting her face. “Have you
sailed often, Lord Sherbourne?” she inquired enviously.

“Only a few times, upon friends’ yachts. I do not have the
passion for sailing that Shelley does, perhaps because I had little leisure for
such pastimes during my years in India with the Company, but I have sailed
often enough that I have obtained some knowledge of the art.”

“Yachting will become even more popular now the Prince
Regent and his brother have joined the Yacht Club,” Earlywine opined. “I hear
the prince has a large yacht commissioned. She should be a beauty when she is
finished. The Prince prefers sailing out of Brighton though.”

The carriage slowed as the coachman turned into an inn yard
and the passengers began to shift about to get their blood circulating properly
again, as passengers do after sitting in one place for a long time.

“It is not long before you will become acquainted with the
seaside, Miss Ashwood,” Sherbourne commented. “We shall eat and refresh
ourselves at this inn and then begin the last leg of our journey.”

Elisabeth smoothed the skirts of her light-blue traveling
suit after they exited the carriage, hoping she did not appear too travel
stained.

“One always feels rumpled after a long carriage journey,”
Lady Parker said, smoothing the skirts of her own forest-green gown. “But
everyone is in the same predicament, so we need not be unduly dismayed by our
appearance.”

After a short repast of cold joint and cheeses at the inn
while a change of horses was made, the party boarded their carriage once more
and a few hours later Elisabeth had her first view of the sea and cliffs to the
east of Lyme.

“The cliffs have such interesting colors and features—and
the sea, how immense it appears,” Elisabeth commented as she gazed out at the
passing scenery.

“That is Lyme Bay,” Sherbourne explained. “Lyme Bay is quite
open and does not provide the shelter for boats that more protected bays do.
That is why the Cobb was first built at Lyme, to provide protection for the
town and create a sheltered harbor for shipping.”

“Those cliffs you are admiring are full of fossils,” Lady
Parker added. “Lyme has become more a destination for fossil hunters than for
those seeking a seaside holiday these last few years, or so Mr. Earlywine has
informed me,” she finished with a dubious glance at her brother’s friend.

“I suppose fossil hunting must be interesting,” Elisabeth
commented. “And perhaps I would enjoy it if I were knowledgeable about fossils
but I am glad we are here for a sailing excursion rather than a fossil-hunting
excursion.”

“I agree with you most heartily, Miss Ashwood,” Earlywine
stated with fervor. “I came fossil hunting here with m’sisters and pottering about
the cliffs poking with sticks and hoping one does not become buried under a
fall of earth is not my favorite pastime for a holiday.”

The others laughed at Earlywine’s vehemence and the
conversation veered into a discussion of the passengers’ most disappointing
holidays as the carriage clattered down the main street of Lyme. Elisabeth had
an impression of white buildings flanking a street that seemed certain to take
them directly into the sea if it continued on its course. But before they
reached the waters of the bay the carriage drew safely to a stop before an inn.
The passengers alighted and Elisabeth looked around interestedly as they walked
to the inn door, noting the view of the seawall and harbor below.

The main room of the inn was small but well-appointed and a
cozy fire burned to take off the chill. As they entered the room Shelley rose
from one of the seats by the fire. Elisabeth was relieved to see that he was
dressed conventionally in trousers and coat, as she wished Lady Parker to have
as good an impression as possible of the poet.

“You made good time, Sherbourne,” Shelley commented after he
and Mary had greeted the party and been presented to Lady Parker. “I took the
liberty of ordering dinner but I believe we shall have time to take a walk along
the Cobb if you wish, after you have refreshed yourselves.”

“Thank you, Mr. Shelley. I believe we would all enjoy a walk
after so many hours seated in a carriage,” Lady Parker acquiesced. “Shall we
agree to meet in three-quarters of an hour?”

An hour later the party had gathered on the street before
the inn, the women draped in shawls to protect them from the brisk sea breeze,
bonnets tightly tied.

“It is perhaps a quarter-hour walk west to the steps that
lead onto the Cobb,” Shelley explained. He directed his attention to Lady
Parker and Elisabeth as he gestured toward the bay. “See how the wall curves
from near the shore outward, forming the harbor? The harbor is deepest at the
middle where you see the buildings and a few small ships tied off the pier.
Beyond the pier you can see where the other arm of the Cobb ends in the bay. We
are fortunate the weather is fine today, on stormy days it can be unsafe to
venture all to the end to the end of the Cobb.”

Shelley and Mary took the lead, walking slowly down toward
the curving gray seawall, Lady Parker following with Mr. Earlywine, Elisabeth
and Lord Sherbourne last. Elisabeth looked about interestedly as they walked
along, reveling in the salt breeze she could taste and smell as well as feel.
Other odors mingled with the salt, most noticeably the fishy smell of sea life
and a less salubrious odor, the origins of which Elisabeth was sure she would
rather not know. Seagulls squawked and screamed, vehicles and vessels clanked
and groaned from strain and underlying it all was the never-ending murmur of
the sea. It was a new world and Elisabeth immediately responded to its appeal.

As Elisabeth and Lord Sherbourne trailed along behind the
others, Elisabeth noticed they had passed several small rock pools along their
way and realized that Mr. Shelley had not stopped at a single one to sail paper
boats, as was his wont wherever there was the least amount of water. She
supposed that in the proximity of the sea and a real sloop he did not have the
desire, and admitted to herself that she was relieved he was not demonstrating
his more eccentric tendencies before Lady Parker.

A few minutes more and they reached the steps leading up the
Cobb. On the top of the Cobb the winds blew stronger and the screeching of the
seagulls and the crash of the waves against the seawall filled her ears.
Elisabeth noticed that Mary Shelley and Lady Parker drew their shawls closer
about them but she, liking the feel of the cool sea breeze, turned her face
into it. Something stirred deep inside her, and she felt profoundly drawn to
the sea. Perhaps, she thought, all English had such a connection, inborn in a
people who lived on an island.

They strolled slowly along the top of the Cobb, talking
little. Lord Sherbourne took Elisabeth’s arm to help her over the uneven paving
and Elisabeth could feel the heat of his touch even through the layers of
clothing. Amazingly, without a word regarding it having passed between them,
their quarrel had been mended and the harmony and growing affection between them
restored in this magical place by the sea. Overwhelming contentment enveloped
Elisabeth as they walked along in quiet harmony and she realized she had come
not only to accept the marriage her father had arranged with Lord Sherbourne
but to long for it. Remembering her strong protestations to her father a scant
five months previously, she marveled at how great a change had been wrought in
her feelings. A laugh escaped between her lips.

“Might I inquire what you find so amusing?” Lord Sherbourne
asked in a light tone, his hand still upon her arm.

“I was only thinking how worried I was when my parents first
suggested my becoming betrothed to you. I was quite terrified at the thought of
marrying someone I could barely remember,” Elisabeth confessed, daring to
respond truthfully. “And yet now I feel so very comfortable in your presence.”

Sherbourne’s hand pressed Elisabeth’s arm more tightly. “I
am so very pleased to hear you say that,” he said. “I feel an equal ease in
your presence. You may not credit it but I was quite as terrified as you
profess you were in the beginning. I wondered if I had made the correct
decision asking your father for your hand in marriage. You may appeal to
Earlywine for confirmation.”

“And now?” Elisabeth asked, greatly daring.

“And now I know I could not have made a better choice,” Lord
Sherbourne answered simply.

Elisabeth’s heart swelled in happiness at Lord Sherbourne’s
obvious sincerity and they walked on together in total contentment.

As their party neared the pier, crowds of people bustled
about as they came and went from the buildings and vessels tied at the pier.
Dozens of fishing nets draped the Cobb’s walls here and the smell of fish
intensified. Raucous, daring seagulls dropped down unexpectedly to pick up
whatever scraps of fish and refuse their sharp eyes detected.

Shelley stopped by a wrought iron railing along the pier and
turned to address the others. “This is the best vantage point from which to
look back at the town,” he informed them, gesturing northeastwardly across the
little harbor. Elisabeth and Lady Parker approached the railing and looked over
to where the town of Lyme rose steeply from the shoreline, its buildings
jumbled close together along the narrow, winding streets. Seagoing vessels of
various sizes bobbed at anchor in the harbor between the Cobb and shore.

“The tide comes in and out twice a day,” Shelley explained
to his listeners, “and it affects the ability of the boats to leave the harbor,
which is relatively shallow. This time of year the tides are extreme, which can
make it difficult for the ships to moor here. For that reason I have moored the
Swallow
over there to the right.”

Elisabeth turned to see a bare-masted sailboat moored in
what she assumed from the poet’s explanation was deeper water.

“How shall we get to the boat?” Elisabeth asked.

“It is not a boat but a sloop, Miss Ashwood,” Mary Shelley
corrected with a laugh. “Do not fear, you need not swim. We shall hire one of
the rowboats, and you
may
refer to them as boats.”

“A boat is a small craft with no deck, Miss Ashwood,”
Earlywine explained, taking pity on Elisabeth’s confusion. “Any vessel with a
deck is a ship, or may be referred to by its type, such as sloop or schooner.”

“You will learn, Miss Ashwood,” Mary assured her friend.
“But come, walk across here and look out this other direction,” she added,
taking Elisabeth’s arm and leading her across the Cobb to a place that gave a
good vantage point to look seaward. “See those two sloops out upon the bay?
That is where we shall be tomorrow.”

Elisabeth spotted two smaller white-sailed vessels in the
direction Mary indicated. The yachts moved smoothly over the water, sails like
wings. “How beautiful!” Elisabeth breathed. “How graceful they are!”

“Indeed they are,” Lady Parker agreed, coming to stand by
Elisabeth. “I find I am quite looking forward to tomorrow’s outing, and I must
confess I was at first rather hesitant. But how could a sail upon such a
beautiful vessel be anything but a pleasure?”

“Would you prefer to take the steps down to the lower part
or continue on top of the Cobb to the end?” Shelley asked as Elisabeth and the
others gazed out across the bay. “One feels the wind less lower but the view is
better from the top of the Cobb.”